


Better Than Gold

by shadowofrazia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Community: merlinolympics, F/M, Ice Skating, M/M, Multi, Olympics, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowofrazia/pseuds/shadowofrazia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://merlinolympics.livejournal.com"> Merlin Olympics on LJ</a>. </p><p>Merlin and Gwen have been partners for a LONG time. It started out on ice when they were children, and grew into the kind of incredibly comfortable perfect relationship that shows when they perform on ice. Enter Arthur, who thinks ice dancing isn't a sport, and has nothing to say but snark to both Merlin and Gwen, but Merlin can't stop thinking about him. Luckily, Gwen is open-minded...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than Gold

If there was anything Merlin hated, it was rehearsing for a crowd.

“Merlin! For goodness sake, pay attention!” shouted Gaius from where he was standing at the side of the rink. Merlin winced and gave Gwen an apologetic look.

“From the top?” he asked. Gwen nodded, and together they made their way back to the centre of the rink. Gwen squeezed Merlin’s hand and winked.

Merlin loved skating with Gwen. They’d been skating together since they were children, too small to do much more than skate hand in hand around the rink. Their routines got more and more complicated, as did their lives, but they were always MerlinandGwen. Skating together was almost as familiar to them as breathing.

“That’s much better!” Gaius exclaimed as they skated back toward the side of the rink. “Though Guinevere, you need a bit more height on that second jump.”

Gwen nodded, looking downright exhausted. When they sat, Gwen rested her head on Merlin’s shoulder. “I’d very much like a nap,” she murmured, and Merlin laughed.

“I’d like to sleep for a year,” he said.

“Are you two complaining over there?” snapped Gaius from where he was discussing something with Mr. Kilgharrah.

Merlin and Gwen smiled innocently in response.

Having two coaches wasn’t something they’d always done. Merlin remembered when they’d changed coaches at thirteen. It was a relief, really; Nimueh Lake was a wonderful trainer, but she’d been the sort to think fear was the only way to get results. Sometimes, Merlin still had nightmares.

When they hired Gaius, they were surprised to receive not one, but _two_ trainers. Gaius was good at form and structure when it came to their routines; Kilgharrah fixed what was wrong. As a result, Merlin and Gwen were expected to medal, if not win gold in their event.  

“I want you two to go through your stretches, then get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow may be the Ceremony, but you’re going to need all the strength you can get this week.” Mr. Kilgharrah handed them their blade guards then returned to speaking with Gaius.

~*~

Arthur had been in Russia for barely a week and he already wasn’t sure his roommate was going to make it out alive.

Mordred Kellwic was a rookie skater, but he was a _good_ rookie skater. He’d done well enough to qualify as an alternate, so here he was, chattering along like nothing was wrong in the world. There was, of course, something wrong in the world, and that thing was Mordred would not _shut up_.

“Mordred,” said Arthur, patiently interrupting a story Mordred was telling about his sister. “You’ve told me this one.”

Mordred flushed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been talking too much, haven’t I?”

“Just a bit,” Arthur said, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. “Nervous tic?”

 “Something like that. It drives my aunt absolutely batty.”

Arthur nodded, unsurprised. “I’m going to get dinner. Try to calm down a bit while I’m gone, yeah?”

“What?” asked Mordred as Arthur pulled on his coat and shoes. “How am I meant to calm down when we compete in _two days_?”

“I don’t know,” said Arthur. “Have a wank or something.”

He closed the door before Mordred could respond.

“I’m sorry,” said a quiet, unfamiliar voice. “But do you often end your conversations with _have a wank_?”

Arthur released the doorknob and turned to see a dark skinned woman standing behind him. Her hair was in a messy bun at the back of her head,  and the fact she looked utterly worn out didn’t take away from the kindness in her eyes.

“Uh,” Arthur said awkwardly. “Not usually, no.”

“This must be a special occasion, then,” she said, smiling. The woman held out a hand. “Guinevere Thomas, though I’m fine being called Gwen. Most people call me Gwen, actually.”

Relaxing, Arthur grasped Gwen’s hand. “Arthur Pendragon,” he said, heart sinking just a bit as Gwen’s eyes widened. She’d heard of him, then.

“Arthur Pendragon…you’re not nearly as tall as I’d expected.”

Arthur laughed in surprise. “That’s one I’ve never heard before.”

“Yes, well, my partner’s got a couple inches on you, I think. Speaking of—“ Gwen turned and pushed open the door opposite Arthur’s. “You are planning on coming to dinner at some point this century, aren’t you Merlin?”

Merlin, Arthur assumed, appeared cheerfully in the doorway. “I was having quite a lot of fun listening to you talking about wanking, thank you.” He closed the door, handed Gwen a purple scarf, and then gave a little wave. “I’m Merlin.”

“I gathered,” said Arthur. He cleared his throat. “Um, shall we walk?””

Together, they walked quietly to the food court. For a while, all Arthur could hear was the sound of their feet on the pavement and the languages of the other athletes around them. He glanced to his right and saw Merlin and Gwen were holding hands.

“You two are together, then?” asked Arthur, nodding at their linked hands.

Merlin and Gwen exchanged glances, then Merlin carefully said, “We’ve always been very close.”

“It made relationships difficult,” explained Gwen. “So we eventually just decided to stop dating other people.”

“Not to mention Gwen’s boyfriends didn’t like where my hands were when we skated,” Merlin said, then grunted when Gwen elbowed him in the side.

Arthur snorted. “That’s probably the whole reason you started skating,” he said. “There’s no other reason a man would figure skate.”

Merlin turned to look at Arthur so quickly that Arthur was surprised his head hadn’t detached. “ _What_?”

“Come on,” said Arthur, laughing. “Everyone knows boys who dance—or in your case, skate—only do it to meet girls. Either that, or they’re gay.”

Gwen looked between the two men, bewildered. “Right,” she said quickly. “Arthur, it was nice to meet you, but I think we’ll walk on our own from here.”

Arthur had never felt like more of an arse.

~*~

“Can you believe him?” asked Merlin later as he turned down the bed. “Especially as he makes his living skating in circles with a pair of overlarge butter knives strapped to his feet.”

Gwen poked her head out of the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. She was very used to Merlin’s rants, and knew it was best to let him go on until he wore himself out.

“Does he know how stressful it is to know you could literally _kill_ somebody in our sport if something goes wrong?” asked Merlin, throwing himself onto the bed with just a little too much force. “Why would I still be skating if the only reason was to meet girls? He _does_ know how much work goes into being a professional athlete, doesn’t he?”

“I suppose so, yes,” said Gwen around her toothbrush. “Considering he is one.”

“Ugh, that bloody _prat_!”

Gwen left the bathroom and switched off the bedroom light. She lay beside Merlin, and in the dim light coming through the window above the bed, Merlin could see her smiling knowingly at him.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Merlin said, the corners of his mouth twitching. He looked away and waved his hand. “Fine. What valuable wisdom do you have for me tonight?”

“Arthur Pendragon is far from the first person to say something like that to you,” she said, laughing when Merlin groaned. “Admit it, Merlin. You’re only upset because Arthur’s fit.”

“You’re a terrible person, Guinevere,” said Merlin, throwing an arm over his eyes. “The worst person.”

“With that strong jaw and those blue eyes.” Gwen teased. “And that _arse_.”

“I hate you,” Merlin said. “I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t.” Gwen leaned over and pulled Merlin’s arm away from his face. “You could never hate me,” she said. “And if you could, you’d certainly be stupid to try it now.”

Merlin grinned giddily up at her. “I can’t believe we made it,” he murmured. “We _actually_ made it.”

Gwen rested her head on Merlin’s chest and sighed. “Yes, we did, and we’re going to kick everybody’s arse,” she said. “Even if it’s a particularly nice arse.”

~*~

Arthur hated waiting.

He’d promised Morgana they’d get dinner together before they had to be anywhere for the Ceremony, and as Morgana went through her sixth run down the slope, he was beginning to regret it.

“Oh, stop looking like someone shot your puppy, Arthur!” called Morgana as she coasted toward him. She pushed up her goggles and grinned, face flushed.

“I promise you, I’d look far happier if someone had,” Arthur responded blithely, dodging Morgana’s attempt to smack him. He batted her hand away from his face. “That was your last run?”

“I think Morgause is pleased enough with my time that she’ll release me into the wild.”

“Not bloody likely, if you’re going with him,” said Morgause from beside Arthur, who scowled.

He’d never really liked Morgause. This was partially because she was frightening and partially because they spent most of their time together bickering, and Arthur wasn’t sure how much, if any of it, was meant to be humorous.

“Hello, Morgause,” Arthur said. “Wonderful of you to join us.”

“I live to please.” Morgause’s grin didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned back to his sister. “I’ll meet you near the car park,” he said, and with a nod to Morgause, Arthur wandered into the crowd.

It was nearly half an hour before Morgana joined him, her hair hanging damp around her shoulders.

“You’re going to catch your death,” Arthur said.

“In this weather?”  Morgana scoffed. “It’s a miracle I can even compete. It’s practically summer out here.”

“Another reason why indoor sports are far more practical,” said Arthur smugly.

“You can’t ski indoors,” Morgana replied, lifting her bag into the back of the car sent to pick them up.

“I can’t ski at all.”

“You tried _twice_ ,” Morgana said impatiently.

“Yes, and then I nearly maimed a four year old. For everyone’s safety, I think it’s best that I don’t try again.”

“You didn’t maim anyone; he just had a bit of a tumble.” Morgana’s composure broke, and her laugh made Arthur flush. “Oh, don’t be such a drama queen!”

“I’m not a drama queen!”

“That’s not what I heard from Mordred,” said Morgana. “He says you were in a foul mood last night when you returned from dinner.”

“I wasn’t in a foul mood. I was just tired. It’s exhausting being here.” Arthur fiddled with his seatbelt.

“Ha! Please, you live for this stuff.” She smiled at him, and Arthur relented.

“I met a pair of ice dancers, and it didn’t go very well,” he muttered to his lap.

“Oh? I’m sure it wasn’t your winning personality that got in the way.”

“I may have strongly implied that the only reason Merlin—one of the skaters—did ice dance was because he either wanted to meet women, or was gay.”

Morgana paused, water bottle halfway to her lips. She lowered it slowly, capped it, and then swiftly hit him with it.

“Ow!” Arthur grasped his shoulder and rubbed it, scowling. The driver looked at the pair in the rear view mirror.

“Is everything alright back there?” he asked in Russian accented speech.

“No,” said Morgana angrily. “My brother is an arse.”

The man was too slow in disguising his grin as he nodded. “Very well, then. Please, try not to get blood on the seats.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Morgana responded, smiling sweetly until the man returned his attention to the road. She rounded on Arthur, who shrank back against his door. “You are going to apologise.”

“I was already planning—“

Morgana spoke over him. “You are going to apologise, and then you’re going to buy them a very expensive dinner after they’ve competed.”

“They’ll probably just throw it at me,” muttered Arthur.

“Good. Make sure they take photographs. I’m sure father would like a laugh.” Morgana pulled her hair into a neat ponytail and, when the car stopped in front of their restaurant, climbed from the vehicle.

“She’s very right,” said the driver.

“When my body is found in a river, you’re going to feel very bad for agreeing with her,” Arthur said, handing the man a bill, and climbing from the car as the man laughed.

*

As much as Arthur didn’t want to admit it, he was nervous about speaking to Merlin and Gwen again. He stood outside their door, trying to gather the courage to knock. He raised his hand and was surprised when the door was pulled open to reveal a grinning Gwen.

“I win!” she said excitedly.

“Er…congratulations,” Arthur responded, confused. “What have you won?”

“I told Merlin you’d be back to apologise.” Gwen stood back and waved Arthur into the room.

It was messier than his and Mordred’s, but not unpleasantly so. If anything, Arthur would call it disarrayed, like the way his father’s desk would get when he had an impending deadline.

“It’s good to know weren’t actually raised in a barn,” said Merlin. “Even if it does mean I owe Gwen twenty quid.”

“You bet twenty quid that I wouldn’t come to apologise for what I said?” Arthur asked, astounded.

As if Arthur hadn’t said a word, Merlin turned to Gwen and said, “I don’t think I owe you anything. He hasn’t apologised yet.”

“I’ve never wanted somebody to lose a bet so badly,” Arthur muttered to the ceiling. “To Merlin’s displeasure, I did come to apologise for what I said last night. It was out of line and—“

“Fucking rude,” Merlin interrupted.

Arthur agreed. “Sometimes, my mouth gets the best of me. I was wondering if you’d let me treat you two to dinner after your competitions are over, or even before.”

Merlin and Gwen had a quick, silent conversation. Finally, after a good minute of Arthur staring awkwardly around the room, Merlin said, “Apology accepted.”

“Right.” Arthur nodded. “I suppose I’ll see you at the Ceremony, then.”

“Well, that’s a given,” Gwen said. “We’re leaving at six-thirty. We’ll meet you out front.”

Arthur found himself being herded toward the door. “I—alright, see you then?”

“Goodbye, Arthur!” called Merlin.

The door closed with a snap, and Arthur stood, alone and confused, in the corridor.

~*~

“Merlin, your mum keeps asking me for photographs,” Gwen said distractedly, tapping something out on her phone. Merlin looked up from where he was fiddling with his camera.

“Tell her she’s out of luck,” he said. “I can’t figure the stupid thing out!”

“Are you hopeless at everything, Merlin, or is it just the useful things?” Arthur asked and took the camera from Merlin’s grasp. Merlin scowled at him, then leaned over Gwen’s phone.

“I still don’t understand why you and mum spent extra for international service,” Merlin muttered. “I haven’t got a phone and I’m doing just fine!”

“Yes, because _I’ve_ got a phone,” Gwen responded.

“Was your mother not able to make it?” asked Arthur as he returned the camera to Merlin.

“Thanks,” Merlin said. “And no, she was able to make it. She’s actually in the stadium right now. She could easily take her own pictures.”

“She said she wants pictures of _us,_ Merlin.” Gwen pulled him closer and held up her camera. Merlin’s smile was sarcastic enough to earn him an elbow in the ribs.

Arthur snorted. “You two are like children, honestly.”

“You’re one to talk,” said an unfamiliar voice behind Arthur. Merlin and Gwen turned to see a dark haired woman, who was somehow able to make the uncomfortable uniform they were all required to wear look halfway decent.

Groaning, Arthur rubbed the side of his face with his hand. “What do you want, Morgana?” he asked. Morgana ignored him, opting to study Gwen and Merlin instead.

Even with all the practice he had dealing with Gaius and Kilgharrah, Merlin felt himself straightening self-consciously. Gwen pressed just slightly closer.

“You two must be Arthur’s ice dancers,” Morgana said, offering a hand. “Morgana Pendragon.”

“I’m Merlin,” said Merlin. “And this is Gwen.”

Gwen gave a little wave. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine.” Morgana grinned. “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to borrow my dear brother for a while.”

 Arthur groaned again. “Reporters or father?” he asked.

“Both, actually,” Morgana responded.

“Tell him I’ve died.”

Merlin laughed, surprised, and then flushed when the other three turned to look at him. “That’s not typically how people react when they’re told they have to speak with their father,” he mumbled with a shrug.

“Yes, well, typically people aren’t dealing with a father who’s practically a Bond villain.” Arthur grimaced. “I suppose I’ll see you around, then,” he said. “Have a good night.”

“How does she make the outfit look _that good_ ,” Gwen whined as they watched Arthur and Morgana disappear into the crowd. “I look bloody ridiculous, and she looks like a supermodel.”

“It could be worse,” said Merlin. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “We could be dressed like the Americans.”

*

The rest of the night passed in a blur for Merlin. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he’d remember that night for the rest of his life. He figured he’d remember more of it once his body stopped humming with excited and nervous energy.

“Merlin!” Gwen laughed as Merlin twirled her around the room. “Merlin, you’re going to make me fall!”

Merlin stopped spinning them around, and grinned giddily down at Gwen. “We made it,” he said, eyes bright with excitement as he leaned down to kiss Gwen hard on the lips. She looped her arms over his shoulders and pulled him closer. After a moment, she pulled back, flushed.

“As much as I love kissing you,” she said. “We do have an early wakeup call tomorrow.” Gwen patted his shoulders, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and went off to get ready for bed.

~*~

On competition days, Arthur preferred not to be spoken to. To be honest, most mornings he didn’t like to be spoken to until he’d had his breakfast. Unfortunately, competition days were typically the days Leon, his coach, had the most to say.

“Arthur, did you listen to a word I said?” asked Leon, startling Arthur from his thoughts.

“’You’ll need to push harder during your lap, Arthur, because they have you skating on the outside lane,’” Arthur parroted. “I always listen.”

“You seemed lost in your thoughts, and that’s not where I want you right now, Pendragon.” Leon sighed and sat beside Arthur. “Morgana said you have a crisis with a pair of ice dancers.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. He knew there’d be a downside to his coach and his sister dating each other, even if it did get them out of his hair for the most part. “You two gossip like a pair of old ladies,” he muttered. Then, “It’s not a crisis.”

“Morgana said you were pining.”

“I’ve known them for _two days_ , Leon.”

Leon shrugged. “Don’t shoot the messenger, mate. She said she couldn’t tell who you were pining over, but I won’t pry as long as you win us a medal. Deal?”

“I—what?” Arthur ran a hand through his hair and groaned irritably. “Yeah, deal. Whatever,” he snapped, standing. “Now, do you mind if I go warm up, or should I talk to you about my childhood trauma as well?”

Leon laughed. “Maybe after you’ve warmed up,” he said. “And Arthur? Be careful, please.”

Arthur paused, and then gave one, brief nod before stepping out onto the ice.

When Arthur was younger, he was a runner. The cross-country team at his school was even less popular than the track kids, but Arthur hadn’t minded, even if Uther had. He’d loved running, had even fancied the idea of running professionally. Of course, that had only been a fever dream. It died out when Uther sent Arthur to boarding school in London when he was twelve.

He’d found speed skating by accident, and really, it’d all gone from there.

“Now,” said Leon later as they waited for their race to begin. “Try to make the first couple laps count as much as possible. Don’t make Arthur do all the work, okay?”

Gwaine snorted. “We would never do that our Arthur.” He reached over and ruffled Arthur’s hair, then laughed loudly when Arthur shoved him away.

“Yes, alright you two,” said Leon good-naturedly. “This is what we’ve been working towards. Now isn’t the time to lose focus. I want you to push yourselves, and I want you to concentrate. If we all focus, we’ll be out of here with the gold.”

And for a while, that’s the way it looked. Gwaine, Percival, and Lancelot all did well. Arthur did well in the first corner. When the teams went to rotate lanes, things went…catastrophically wrong. Arthur felt himself slipping, and then felt himself land hard on the ice. He slid across the track and slammed hard against the sideboard.

Somewhere beneath the horror at the fact he’d _fallen_ at the Olympics, Arthur could feel his leg and his right wrist throbbing. He glanced over, a bit disoriented by all the panicked shouting, and saw the ice was a rather peculiar shade of red.

“Arthur! Arthur, oh my god!” Leon said as he skated to Arthur’s side. He placed a hand on Arthur’s chest. “No, don’t try to sit up. They’re bringing in medics now.”

“My leg hurts,” Arthur mumbled.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Leon responded distractedly, allowing himself to be shuffled out of the way as the medics hastily began to fuss around Arthur.

“Leon,” said Arthur as he was being carried away. “Tell Mordred to be careful ‘round the corners.”

“Your sister is going to kill me,” Leon said and patted Arthur gently on the shoulder before he was rushed away.

~*~

Merlin looked up from where he was stretching to see Gwen reading something anxiously on her phone.

“Something to share?” he asked, returning to his stretch. “Did my mum get into a row with a volunteer?”

“Worse,” said Gwen. She leaned forward and held the phone beneath Merlin’s face. Merlin squinted, then straightened, taking the phone.

“Oh no,” he murmured. “He fell?”

“Quite badly, it seems. He had to have stitches in his calf and his wrist is broken. They say he cut something important.” Gwen tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now.”

“I can.” Merlin handed the phone back to Gwen and stood. Helping her up, he said, “We should get him a card.”

“I think a teddy bear would be better,” Gwen said. 

“Arthur probably hates stuffed bears.”

Gwen laughed. “Perhaps they’ve got dragons. Much manlier.”

An hour later, Gwen and Merlin walked to Arthur’s room, arms laden with flowers and stuffed toys. Merlin rapped gently on Arthur’s door and, without waiting for a response, pushed it open.

“Arthur?”

The room was dim, the curtains drawn to block out the daylight. On one of the beds, beneath a mound of blankets, was Arthur. He turned to look over at them and sighed despairingly.

“We brought you some things,” Gwen said, quietly closing the door. “We thought they’d help your mood a bit.”

“You didn’t get me a teddy bear, did you?” Arthur mumbled. “I bloody hate teddy bears.”

“Given the fact you’ve had the worst day of your life, I’m not going to point out you’re being rude,” Merlin responded, sitting on the bed opposite Arthur’s.

“This isn’t the worst day of my life,” Arthur said, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “But it definitely comes in at a close second.”

“You seem to be taking this pretty well.” Gwen sat at the foot of Arthur’s bed. “Though from your eyes, you’re still a bit loopy.”

“Give it time,” Arthur muttered. “I’m sure I’ll eventually come to realise my entire life’s work has amounted to nothing because I’m a bloody idiot who can’t keep his balance.” It was clear Arthur was trying very hard to sound flip, but even Merlin could hear the anger in his voice. Gwen grimaced.

“Not your entire life, surely,” she said. “There’s always 2018.”

Arthur snorted. “2018. I’ll be ancient by then.”

“You’re younger than Gwen,” Merlin said. “So if anyone should be worried, it’s—“

“Merlin, I _will_ make it a point to misplace my foot when we’re rehearsing lifts tomorrow.” Gwen warned. Arthur laughed quietly, though the grin didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Clearing his throat, Merlin asked, “Do you want us to leave you alone?”

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it. After a moment, he opened it again. “Would you mind staying?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Gwen murmured with a smile.

~*~

Arthur awoke some time later to the sound of his bedroom door closing. He opened his eyes and looked blearily around the room. On the other bed sat Merlin, reading a book. Gwen was nowhere to be seen.

Merlin smiled over at him. “It’s nearly seven,” he said. “Gwen just went for a shower. She thought the three of us could go to dinner soon.”

“I’m not really feeling up to dinner,” Arthur said. “Surprisingly.”

“My mum is a nurse and she said you should eat.” Merlin crossed the room and sat on the edge of Arthur’s bed, placing the back of his hand on Arthur’s forehead. Arthur batted Merlin’s hand away.

“What are you doing?” he asked, bewildered.

“Making sure you haven’t got a fever or gangrene or anything.”

“I’m not going to get _gangrene_ ,” Arthur snapped. “I’m perfectly fine!” Merlin gave him a long, patient stare, and Arthur relented. “Your hands are freezing.”

“Sorry,” said Merlin, not sounding sorry at all. “I’ve always had cold hands. My mum says my father was the same way.”

“Did you not know your father growing up?” asked Arthur.

“He, uh, wasn’t around. I visited him a few times, but he died when I was twelve.” Merlin shrugged, setting his hands in his lap. “He was nice enough, but I was always a bit angry with him for leaving me and my mum alone. Plus, we didn’t have much in common.”

“Sometimes, I think my father and I have too much in common,” Arthur said. “He hasn’t called yet, but I can imagine what he’ll say when he does.”

Arthur and his father had always been a bit at odds when it came to speed skating. Of course, Uther had been glad to head Arthur had stopped picking fights at school after starting the sport, but it’d been obvious right away that he’d expected Arthur to give it up before college. When Arthur insisted on training in addition to getting a degree, well, Uther wasn’t pleased, to say the least.

“Merlin, if I asked you a question, would you judge me?” asked Arthur slowly after a long moment of comfortable silence.

“That depends on the question.” Merlin grinned cheekily. His smile faded slightly at Arthur’s expression and he rubbed his palms over his knees. “I wouldn’t, no.”

“Do you think it’s possible to be interested in two people at once?”

Merlin looked startled, and Arthur immediately began backtracking.

“I didn’t mean—I wouldn’t, of course, but I just—“

Arthur felt Merlin’s hand on his arm.

“Arthur, calm down,” he said. “I don’t think you’re some sort of heathen, even if your manners are mildly appalling. The question just threw me off.” He cleared his throat and returned his hand to his lap. “I think it’s entirely possible.”

“Would you ever consider—“

There was a knock on the door, and Gwen poked her head into the room. “Ready for dinner?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Merlin, standing quickly. “I’m going to grab my jacket. Could you help Arthur?”

Without another word, Merlin hurried from the room. Gwen gave Arthur a questioning look, but Arthur simply shook his head in response.

~*~

“Merlin! Get your head out of the clouds and pay attention to what you’re doing!” Gaius shouted from where he stood at the edge of the mat.

Gwen and Merlin were rehearsing on the ground today, focusing more on dance than on skating, and Merlin had stumbled more than once. He could tell Gwen was relieved they weren’t on skates.

“Sorry, sorry!” Merlin said, lowering Gwen to the floor. “I zoned out.”

“In order to ‘zone out,’ you would have had to be focussed to begin with!” Gaius snapped. “Get back into your starting position. We need to work on the lead in to your first lift.”

It’d been two days since his conversation with Arthur, and things had been shaky ever since. He and Gwen were getting along, but even Gwen could only deal with Merlin’s preoccupation for so long.

Merlin could practically feel Gwen’s irritation radiating from her body as they walked back to their room. He knew, in this situation, it was best to keep quiet until she exploded. It was going to happen either way, and it usually wasn’t as bad if Merlin just let her get to it in her own time.

When they got to their room, Gwen slammed the door behind her and stomped off to the bathroom. Merlin sighed, set their things down beside the door, and lay on the bed. He’d nearly dozed off when Gwen hit him in the face with a pillow.

“Ow! What was that for?” he asked.

“You are not going to jeopardise our chances because you’re having a bloody sexuality crisis!” she said, angrily punctuating each word by hitting Merlin with the pillow.

“A _what_?” Merlin asked, shielding himself from the assault.

“You dropped me today, Merlin! You haven’t dropped me in over a year, and now you decide to do it a week before we compete?!” Gwen began pacing back and forth. “I don’t care what you do, but it’s obvious you and Arthur are interested in each other, even if you’re both too fucking thick to figure it out!”

“Arthur’s not interested in me,” Merlin said quickly. “He’s interested in us.”

Gwen paused, pillow gripped tightly in her hands. For a second, Merlin thought she’d calmed down, but then she hit him again with the pillow. “Why would you keep that to yourself, you _idiot!_ ”

“Stop hitting me!”

“Stop being an idiot!” Gwen shot back, even as she set the pillow on the bed and sat down. “You need to talk to him,” she said much more calmly.

“What am I supposed to say?” asked Merlin. “ _Oh, yes, it’s fine, you can date both of us!_ ”

“Yes.”

Merlin stared at her. “You’d be alright with that? All of us—” he gestured vaguely in the air.

“Yes, and it doesn’t have to be a big deal.” Gwen shrugged. “It’s not unheard of. Obviously, we’re not going to figure it all out while we’re here, but I think we could make it work well enough.”

“Ugh,” said Merlin. “Why couldn’t he just be the prat we thought he was on the first night?”

“Because that would be too easy,” Gwen said, standing. “Now, go talk to him. I’m going to spend the rest of the night with Freya, and you’re going to figure this out before I have to kill you. Understood?”

Merlin nodded. Sometimes, Gwen and his mother could be scarily alike.

~*~

Regardless of what anyone said or thought, Arthur was definitely _not_ moping. He was recuperating sadly and by himself, which was _not the same_. Arthur looked forlornly around the room.  Mordred’s things were gone, and Arthur never thought he’d miss the incessant chattering.

There was a quiet knock at the door and, figuring he should stand at least once today, Arthur stood and hobbled over to the door.

“Merlin!” he said, gripping the doorframe to keep from falling over. He wasn’t meant to be putting any weight on his right leg.

“Arthur!” Merlin said, seemingly surprised that Arthur had answered the door to his own room. “I, uh…should you be standing on your own like that?”

“Probably not, no.” Arthur stepped back to let Merlin into the room, then made his way over to the bed. “I’m just so bloody tired of sitting all the time.”

“You don’t have to sit,” Merlin pointed out. “They did give you crutches.”

“Have you ever used crutches with a broken wrist? Please, I’d rather chew my own arm off and beat myself with it.”

“That’d get rid of the broken wrist, at least,” Merlin muttered. “Look, I didn’t come to talk about your injuries, even if I am glad you’re feeling well enough to be a complete drama queen.”

Arthur opened his mouth to argue, then stopped himself, taking in Merlin’s expression. “Is everything alright?” he asked. He’d never seen Merlin looking so serious, which was a strange thought, considering Arthur had managed to offend him the first night they met.

Merlin sat on Mordred’s now vacated bed. “I don’t know,” he said. “Gwen hit me with a pillow.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, no. That’s not what’s wrong; she does that all the time. Well, nothing’s wrong, per say. It’s just…confusing.” Merlin sighed, closed his eyes, and licked his lips before reopening them. “The other day, when you asked if it was alright to be interested in two people, was that a general question, or was it…”

“Was it what?” asked Arthur, gripping his duvet tightly in his hands. He wasn’t sure he liked where this conversation was going, or even if he liked that it was happening.

“Was it a preposition?”

Arthur’s stomach flip-flopped, but before he even had a chance to open his mouth, Merlin was speaking again.

“Gwen said it’s obvious we—you and I—fancy each other, and that it’d be much better for everyone involved if we just admitted it, because I _dropped_ her today. I told her about what you’d asked and then she hit me even harder with the pillow and told me to talk to you.”

“And?”

Wide-eyed, Merlin opened and closed his mouth, and Arthur ludicrously imagined him as a large-eared fish. He was going to say something, but then Merlin was right beside him and placing one of his cold hands against Arthur’s cheeks.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” he murmured.

Arthur shook his head.

Kissing Merlin was both exhilarating and terrifying. It wasn’t as if Arthur had never kissed a man before; he’d dated a bloke in uni, though he hadn’t been particularly _open_ about it. Being a semi-professional athlete was stressful enough without adding the complication of bisexuality to the mix. So Arthur had focussed on his studies and his sport, only having the occasional shag if the opportunity arose.

He hadn’t been expecting an opportunity during his trip to the Olympics.

Merlin pulled back, and Arthur slowly opened his eyes.

“Alright?” asked Merlin, a small, hopeful smile on his face. Arthur smiled back.

“Alright.”

~*~

“So, how’d it go?” asked Gwen when she and Merlin met for breakfast the following morning. Her eyes were practically glittering with amusement.

“It’s too early for this, Guinevere,” Merlin muttered into his tea, trying to seem as surly as possible. Gwen giggled and nudged him with her shoulder.

“Come on, Merlin. You know you want to tell me.”

Merlin looked over at her. “It went well, I think. He wants to talk to you this evening, to make sure you’re, you know…open to this whole thing.”

“Well, did you—“

“You are asking way too many questions,” Merlin said, sternly waving his teaspoon at her and splashing the table with little droplets of tea. “We watched a film on his laptop and I fell asleep.”

“Wow, a real hellion, you are.” Gwen rolled her eyes and absentmindedly wiped up the spilled tea. “Hurry up,” she said. “We’ve got a lot of work to do today.”

~*~

Arthur couldn’t stop thinking.

Even as he sat in the stands, watching his sister talking quietly with Morgause about one mistake or another, Arthur just _couldn’t stop_. His mind had been buzzing ever since he’d woken up to an empty bed and a note from Merlin, explaining that he’d gone to training.

“Please, Arthur, your fidgeting is worse than a toddler’s,” said Arthur’s father from beside him. Arthur looked over at Uther, took in the scar just above his right eye. He’d never thought to ask how his father had got it.

“Sorry, father.”

“Don’t be sorry,” sighed Uther. “Just stop.”

Arthur stilled, turning his gaze back to his sister. He thought about the way it felt, having Merlin draped over him in the bed that was honestly too small for two people. Arthur thought of the way Merlin huffed out quiet little laughs at the stupidest parts of the film, and  smiled to himself, ducking his head.

“Enjoying yourself, then?” Uther asked, pulling Arthur back to the present.

“I—I suppose so, yes,” Arthur said carefully. “It’s nice to be here.”

“I’m surprised to see you in such high spirits after your fall,” Uther responded, still watching the slope. “It’s almost admirable, the way you’ve handled this.”

“Thank you.”

“Perhaps now you’ll be able to put that business degree to good use.”

Arthur shrugged, frowning. “Perhaps,” he said. _But probably not_.

*

By the time Arthur returned to his room that night, he was in a particularly foul mood. It was usual, after a long day with his father, and Arthur knew he should be used to it by now. But it was incredibly difficult to get used to disappointing his father, especially when he tried so hard not to.

He sighed, balancing on his crutches as he dug through his pockets for his keys. He just wanted to go to bed and forget this day had ever happened.

“Arthur?”

Arthur turned at the sound of Gwen’s voice. His body relaxed slightly, and he smiled. “Guinevere.”

“You look like you could use a laugh,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“Either that, or a dangerous amount of wine.”

“We’ve got mineral water and fruit,” Gwen said. “And I think Merlin’s managed to sneak some sweets in, though he thinks I haven’t noticed. Would you like to join us?”

“More than you know,” Arthur replied, relieved not to have to spend the night alone.

Gwen held the door open, so Arthur could crutch his way into the room. Merlin was sitting at a small desk, picking his way through a bowl of fruit as he spoke to somebody on the phone. He waved at Arthur, then resumed his conversation.

“He’s talking to his mum. Usually, they have breakfast together the morning of a competition, but Gaius and Kilgharrah want us working straight from the start.” Gwen sat on the bed and crossed her legs. “Do you want something to eat? I did promise you mineral water and fruit.”

Arthur sat beside her and laid his crutches on the floor. “I’m alright, actually. I just ate.”  

“Typical.” Gwen laughed.

“Gwen, mum wants to speak to you.” Merlin held out the phone. Gwen held her hands up, caught it, and stood, chatting as she walked into the hall.

Merlin spun around in his chair and smiled at Arthur. “Hello,” he said.

“Hello.” Arthur nervously tapped his fingers against the cast on his right hand. “You’ve had a good day?” he asked.

“Good enough.” Merlin shrugged. He laughed and walked over towards Arthur. “We’re being incredibly awkward,” he said, placing both hands on Arthur’s shoulders and kissing him gently on the lips.

It was like every bad moment of his day hadn’t even happened.

Merlin moved to straddle Arthur’s thighs, forcing Arthur to loop his arms around Merlin’s waist to keep him from toppling to the floor.

“You’re practically skin and bones,” Arthur muttered against Merlin’s neck as he shifted them further back onto the bed. Merlin let out something that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a moan, and then scowled at Arthur.

“Excuse you,” he said. “I’ll have you know this _skin and bones_ is actually all muscle.”

“Oh, yes. It’s the muscle you need for your ballroom dancing on ice.” Arthur teased. “The last time I ballroom danced, I was twelve.”

“You’re a prat.”

“At least I’m honest.”

“Have you ever bench-pressed a woman, Arthur? It’s much harder than it looks. Stop _laughing_!” Merlin pulled back and tried to get free of Arthur’s grasp. Even with a cast on one arm, Arthur was able to keep Merlin where he was.

“ _Have you ever bench-pressed a woman?_ Merlin, that’s quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard come out of somebody’s mouth.” Arthur threw his head back and laughed, able to feel Merlin shaking with laughter against him.

“Wow, you two certainly don’t waste any time,” Gwen said, closing the door behind her with a soft click. She set her phone on the desk and sat against the headboard of the bed. Merlin tucked his chin over Arthur’s shoulder and smiled.

“Pre-performance jitters,” he said, moving to sit in the empty space on the bed between Arthur and Gwen.

Arthur could feel the tension in the air. He knew Gwen had agreed to all this, but he couldn’t help feeling as though he was doing something wrong. He had, after all, been very enthusiastically kissing her boyfriend only moments ago. Hell, he and Merlin had even slept together, though they’d not actually done anything but sleep.

Arthur turned and saw Gwen and Merlin having one of their silent conversations. He’d only witnessed a few of them, but he always felt as if he were intruding on something very, very private. He cleared his throat and prepared to see himself out.

“You know,” said Merlin after a moment. “She does want you to kiss her, Arthur. We were talking about it earlier, about how this was practically her idea, but you and I are the ones having all the fun.”

“I didn’t want to…” Arthur said quietly. “I didn’t want to take advantage.”

“Oh, you’re sweet.” Gwen tucked her hair behind her ear and gestured Arthur forward. With only a bit of difficulty, Arthur scooted up the bed until he was sat directly across from her. When it became clear Arthur wasn’t going to make the first move, Gwen did.

She smelled of lavender and jasmine, of spring and summer and _warmth_ ; Arthur wondered how such an unfamiliar scent could make him feel so relaxed and at home. Her hair was soft on his hands as he rested them on her back. She smiled against Arthur’s lips, then pulled as Merlin climbed off the bed to answer the ringing phone.

“That’ll be our coaches telling us it’s time to go to bed,” Gwen explained.  “They know we’re too nervous to keep track of the time, so they’re nice enough to do it for us.”

“Should I leave?” asked Arthur.

“You don’t have to,” said Gwen. “But we are leaving rather early, so if you’d like to sleep in, you’re probably better off going back to your room for the night.” She helped Arthur from the bed, and Merlin handed him his crutches, pecking Arthur on the cheek.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Arthur. “Tomorrow, if I survive the day with my father and Morgana.” He grimaced. “I hope your competition goes well.”

He gave a little wave and went to his room.

Though his room was quiet and empty when he returned, Arthur couldn’t stop grinning.

~*~

Gwen was practically hyperventilating as she paced back and forth in the hall outside the rink. Her hair had been styled in a 1920s fashion and, with some help from Hunith, pinned neatly to keep it from whipping Merlin in the face. The beads of her dress glistened in the light as she moved.

“Guinevere, you have to calm down,” Gaius said sternly. “Use that nervous energy on the ice, but not right now.” He sent Merlin a harried look, then went off to find Mr. Kilgharrah.

Merlin got nervous the night before a performance, but Gwen had always been the one to panic before they went out on the ice. They rarely had anything to worry about, especially after performing this program so many times, but Gwen still panicked. Merlin wasn’t even sure why Gaius got so upset every time this happened. Still, he walked over and placed both hands on Gwen’s shoulders.

“Gwen, you need to breathe,” he said, looking her sternly in the eye. “We’re going to do great, and I promise not to drop you.”

“If you drop me, I’ll kill you,” she mumbled, then leaned heavily against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Oh, god.”

Merlin absentmindedly rubbed Gwen’s back. “Just think,” he said. “We could be spending the day with Uther Pendragon.”

When Gwen laughed, Merlin knew they’d be alright.

~*~

“You seem terribly distracted, little brother.”

Arthur looked up from where he was trying very hard to cut his food. “If you can find a way to cut food without the use of your dominant hand, please let me know,” he said dryly.

“Please don’t start, you two,” Uther sighed.

Morgana smiled innocently. Well, she smiled as innocently as she could, which honestly wasn’t very innocent at all. Arthur clenched his jaw, preparing himself for the worst.

“Have your ice dancers competed yet?” she asked.

“Your…ice dancers?” asked Uther. Arthur shot his sister a furious look.

Of course, Morgana had no idea about the relationship Arthur had begun with Merlin and Gwen, but he still wasn’t too keen to talk about this around his father. Uther probably already had his doubts about his son’s sexuality, considering Arthur hadn’t dated anyone since he’d left university, but he’d really rather avoid coming out in _Russia_ over a too expensive dinner.

“The people staying opposite me are ice dancers,” Arthur explained, nervously pushing his food around his plate with his left hand. “And to answer your question, Morgana, their program is finishing up right now.”

“Glorified ballroom dance is not a sport,” Uther sniffed.

“It’s a bit more complex on ice, I think,” said Arthur quietly.

“Ice-skating is a child’s day out, not an Olympic sport. _Ice dance_ , it’s embarrassing.”

 “Father, it’s hardly polite to write of an entire sport simply because you hate dancing,” Morgana interrupted with a pleasant smile. “I’m sure they’ve had to train just as much as any other athlete.”

“Yes, and that’s what makes it so tragic,” Uther responded. He took a sip of his wine.“Now, Morgana, tell me what you thought of the American skier’s run today.”

Arthur relaxed against his seat and let his mind wander away from the conversation as he surreptitiously checked his phone beneath the table.

~*~

Merlin was positive he was going to sleep for days and, judging by the way she’d collapsed on the bed when they returned, Gwen was feeling the same way.

But they’d placed first in the short program. _At the Olympics._

“Alright, you two,” said Hunith as she bustled around the room. “You need to eat something before you sleep. Up you get!”

Merlin groaned up at the ceiling. “Couldn’t you just lower food into my mouth or something, mum?”

“Merlin!”

With another groan, Merlin rolled from the bed and walked over to where his mum had set out the food. Gwen followed a moment later, covering her mouth as she yawned.

They were halfway through their bowls of soup, when there was a knock at their door. Hunith sighed.

“Who would be so inconsiderate as to visit this late at night?” she muttered, walking to the door. “Yes?”

“Oh,” said Arthur’s surprised voice. “I didn’t mean to intrude; I just wanted to congratulate Merlin and Gwen.”

Hunith crossed her arms, and Merlin knew this would become an event if he didn’t intervene. His mother could be surprisingly vicious when it came to keeping Gwen and Merlin health and on track during competitions.

“Mum, it’s fine,” he said, turning in his chair. “It’s Arthur. He can come in.”

Hunith stood back, and Arthur made his way into the room. With a bit of difficulty, Arthur leaned over to hug Merlin and then Gwen.

“I know you two are probably knackered, but I wanted to come congratulate you. I read it on my phone during dinner and nearly upended my water.” He grinned.

“Thank you,” said Gwen with a tired smile. “Let’s just hope we can keep it up for tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to with no problem,” Arthur said. “I’ll let you finish your dinner.”

He was halfway out the door, when Hunith said, “I suppose I’ll be seeing you at the event tomorrow?”

Arthur hesitated, glancing over at Merlin and Gwen, who were both trying not to look hopeful at the thought. “I wasn’t planning on it, but I would like to see it, if I could.”

“Perfect!” said Hunith. “We’ve got an extra seat, because Gwen’s father couldn’t make it, unfortunately.”

Merlin bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter at the slightly panicked look on Arthur’s face at the thought of spending an entire day with Merlin’s mum.

“That sounds…that sounds wonderful. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Arthur said, smiling at them again, just before the door closed.

Hunith sighed. “God, that boy must be horrible at poker. I think if he looked any more lovestruck, we’d have to sell him to Hallmark for their Valentine’s cards.”

Gwen choked on the spoonful of soup she’d just eaten and, coughing, looked over at Hunith. “What?”

“Look, I don’t know what you three have got going on, but I’m going to assume you’re handling it like adults. Just remember you are here for a reason.”

“Of course,” said Gwen, when it became clear a red faced Merlin was not going to be saying anything, as he was too busy trying to burn a hole into the table with his eyes. “We all understand that.”

Hunith nodded. “Good. Now, I’ve triple checked your bags for tomorrow. Your make up, Gwen, is in a different pocket from your outfit—we don’t want a repeat of what happened in 2010. That was a nightmare. I put granola bars in the side pocket of Merlin’s bags, and I’ll be down around five to help you with your hair.”

“Thanks, Hunith.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Hunith said, picking up their empty bowls. “Now, get some rest!” She kissed the top of Merlin’s head, then Gwen’s. “I’m so proud of you two.”

“Thanks, mum,” Merlin leaned against her for a moment, before Hunith hurried from the room with a cheerful, “Love you!” and a wave.

~*~

The first hour Arthur spent with Hunith was more enjoyable than the entire week he’d spend with his father and Morgana. That wasn’t to say he and Morgana didn’t get on, but it was exhausting spending time with her, especially when most of the time was spent in subtle competition.

“So, Arthur,” Hunith began, walking slowly enough that Arthur could easily keep up on his crutches. “Tell me why you’re still here. I heard most of the speed skaters left right after their competition. Was it the injury or--?”

“My sister doesn’t compete until the 20th, so I thought I’d wait it out. This will also give me a chance to walk in the Closing Ceremony,” Arthur said. “The injury’s a stupid mistake that’s going to keep me out of competition for at least a year.”

“Surely, that time’s not all going to be spent healing?” Hunith asked, steering Arthur towards the correct entrance to the ice arena.

“The medics said it would probably be about three months before I’m off crutches, followed by a lot of physical therapy before I can even think about skating again.”

“I’m surprised you’re up and walking.”

“I’m surprised I can see straight, considering how many pain medications I’ve taken this week.”

Hunith laughed, peering down at their tickets. “We’re near their waiting area,” she said. “Just a few rows up.”

They found their seats and settled in. As they waited, Hunith explained how the program worked and what each term meant. Most of it went over Arthur’s head, but he did his best to pay attention.

“They’ll be skating as part of the last group, so we’ve got time to relax.”

Despite her words, it seemed like Hunith was ready to do anything _but_ relax. Her phone was clenched in one hand and, when she wasn’t anxiously checking the screen, she was tapping it against her thigh. Even Arthur felt nervous.

“I think I prefer competing over watching,” he muttered after the third group had finished.

“You’ll get used to it,” was all Hunith said. She straightened. “Look, they’re taking the ice.”

 From where he was sitting, Arthur could see Merlin and Gwen almost clearly. Merlin was dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt and black trousers. It was a simple outfit, far less flashy than Arthur had imagined. He could see the maroon skirt of Gwen’s dress flutter as she skated.

“When he skates, Merlin prefers comfort over appearance,” Hunith explained. “He’s been in showier things than that, of course, but we’ve decided to leave the beauty to Gwen.”

Arthur chuckled. “Probably a good idea, that.”

“According to the program, Gwen and Merlin are skating last,” Hunith said. She squeezed Arthur’s hand. “Get ready for the longest half-hour of your life.”

~*~

As a rule, Merlin and Gwen did not watch their competitors’ performances. Gwen found it nauseatingly stressful, and Merlin knew he’d spend the rest of the night comparing jumps and twizzles.

Merlin hated waiting for their name to be called. It was like waiting to find out the grade to a particularly difficult exam. Finally, the slightly peevish woman doing the commentating called,

“Representing Great Britain, Merlin Emrys and Guinevere Thomas, who will be skating to a medley of songs from _The Phantom of the Opera_!”

As Merlin and Gwen stepped out onto the ice, Gaius said, “Embrace the music. Focus on each other. You can do this!”

Merlin nodded tightly and took Gwen’s hand, leading her to centre ice.

~*~

Arthur swore everyone in the area was holding their breath as Merlin and Gwen glided to their starting positions. They were poised in a way Arthur had never seen before, still until they heard the music begin.

He didn’t even have a chance to comment on the strange opening sequence of poses before they were off, spinning and skating together like they were one person. They skated quickly, with no hesitation, even as Merlin occasionally lifted Gwen from the ice.

Arthur didn’t blink as Merlin flipped Gwen around like she weighed nothing, not losing the beat of the music or faltering in the slightest.

“They are very good, aren’t they?” he asked.

Hunith nodded without taking her eyes from the ice. She twisted her program anxiously in her hands, and Arthur was about to ask why, when Merlin hoisted Gwen up onto his shoulder, then down to balance on his extended leg.

“They got their footwork section in sync, thank god,” Hunith muttered a few seconds later. If Arthur hadn’t been stunned into silence, he would have asked how she was able to see that from where they were sitting. “One more lift, and we’re good.”

It wasn’t so much a lift as it was Merlin practically using Gwen as a baton, but Arthur was in no position to argue as the music stopped and the crowd burst into earsplitting cheers.

~*~

Merlin kneeled on the ice, trying to catch his breath enough to stand. He stood and took Gwen’s hand, going through their bows on autopilot.

Judging by the way Gaius and Kilgharrah were smiling—well, Gaius smiled. Kilgharrah just looked slightly less frightening—they’d done well. Gaius handed them their blade guards and led the way over to the kiss and cry booth.

“Here,” said Kilgharrah, pushing bottles of Gatorade into their hands. “Drink these before you pass out on us, for goodness sake.”

With shaking hands, Merlin opened one of the bottles for Gwen, then opened the other for himself. They sipped at the drinks in silence, trying to catch their breath as they waited for their score to be announced.

“May I get the free dance score for Merlin Emrys and Guinevere Thomas?” called the announcer. “The free dance score, please.”

Merlin and Gwen grasped hands as their score came up onto the screen.

“They have scored 114.34 points, putting them into first place, with a combined score of 190.4.”

The world blurred slightly at the edges as the arena erupted into cheers, and Merlin realized belatedly that he was crying. Gwen threw her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth. The feeling of her lips against his and the sweet floral smell of her perfume filled his senses, grounding him enough that he was able to stand with her to wave to the audience.

~*~

It was much later before Merlin, Arthur, and Gwen had a moment alone.

Merlin threw his sweatshirt into the corner of the room, ignoring the disapproving sound Gwen made behind him. He opted instead for pulling Arthur into a heady kiss, the adrenaline from the day still coursing through his body. He carefully pushed Arthur back to lie on the bed, lying beside him as they kissed.

Gwen toed off her shoes and climbed onto the bed beside the two men, pressing light kisses to the exposed skin of Merlin’s collarbone and taking Arthur’s hand.

Merlin rolled over, feeling the energy drain from his body. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Right now, I just really want to sleep. Can we do that?”

“Of course,” said Arthur. To be honest, he was exhausted, too. Even just watching had worn him out.

It took the three of them a few minutes to figure out how to arrange themselves, but eventually they found a position that worked. Arthur was in the middle, comfortable with Gwen and Merlin both using him as a makeshift pillow. He lay awake for a while, staring up at the dark ceiling.

This wasn’t how he’d expected his Games to go. He’d wanted the gold, and spent more time training than socializing. He hadn’t received the gold, in the end, but as he lay in the dark, with his two ice dancers curled against his chest, Arthur couldn’t think of anything better than this.  

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Merlin, the Olympics, or Russia. 
> 
> Merlin and Gwen's ice dance routine was shamelessly stolen from the lovely American ice dance team Davis and White. A video can be found [ HERE](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItdY-lst8yI&feature=player_detailpage). 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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